


Control My Pleasure

by RedShirtWriter34567



Category: Mad to Be Normal (2017), Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Butt Plugs, Dirty Talk, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Phone Sex, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:34:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24054499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedShirtWriter34567/pseuds/RedShirtWriter34567
Summary: Martin receives a package from Ronald.
Relationships: Martin Whitly/R.D. Laing
Comments: 7
Kudos: 39





	Control My Pleasure

Martin was in his cell, writing in his journal, when he heard the door open. He turned around in his chair as a guard walked in, holding a small package in his hand. 

"Mail for you, Dr. Whitly," the guard said, handing it to him.

Martin raised his eyebrows as he took the package. It had been a very long time since he'd received mail of any kind. The package felt light as he held it, padded on the inside to protect the contents. The Claremont's address was on one side, and another address was on the other. Martin didn't recognize it. The guard left the room, and Martin faced his desk again, slitting open the package with his fingernail. He reached inside and removed a black remote control, a small bag of batteries, and a folded note. The remote was small in enough that it fit perfectly in the palm of Martin's hand, and it had five buttons on it. Martin put two batteries inside the remote and pressed one button, but nothing happened. 

"Interesting," he murmured.

He set the remote aside and picked up the note, unfolding it carefully. He smiled when he recognized Ronald's sharp, neat handwriting. He had scrawled a message that sent a shiver down Martin's spine.

'Dear, Dr. Whitly.

You're probably wondering what this remote does. Tonight, ask for the phone and see if you can persuade the guard to leave the room. My phone number is on the back of the note. I look forward to your call. -Ronald Laing.'

Martin smiled and placed the note on his desk. He picked up the remote again, idly passing it between his hands as he leaned back in his desk chair, eager to hear what Ronald had in store for them that night.

That evening, Ronald was in his rented New York apartment, only a thirty minute drive from the Claremont. He was in his bedroom, the door shut, the curtains drawn. He had on nothing but a thin pair of boxers, and was sitting patiently on his bed, his cellphone and a bright purple vibrator sitting in front of him. He knew Martin had received his package. Now it was just a matter of making sure they had privacy. Hopefully Martin would find some way to get the guard to leave the room for awhile. His cellphone rang, lighting up and buzzing urgently. Ronald grabbed it and put it on speaker.

"Hello, Dr. Whitly," he purred. "Did you get the guard out of the room?"

"Yes," Martin answered. "I told him I was calling for something extremely personal and confidential. We should have plenty of time."

"Excellent," Ronald said, stretching his legs out. "You're probably very curious as to what that remote does, aren't you?"

"I think I may have some ideas," Martin replied, a smirk in his voice. "But please, Ronnie, enlighten me."

"Tonight you have control over me and my pleasure," Ronald explained in a low, sultry voice. "That remote controls a vibrator that I will put inside myself, but you can control when or if I come."

Martin moaned, so softly Ronald almost didn't hear it. He smiled at the sound and adjusted his position on the bed. 

"What do you want me to do first, Martin?" he asked. 

"Stretch yourself open," Martin commanded. "Make yourself nice and slick for me."

Ronald shivered at the commanding tone in Martin's voice and hastened to obey. He peeled his underwear off and away, then grabbed a tube of lube off the nightstand. He laid on his back on the bed, placed his phone on his chest, then flipped open the lube. He slicked up three of his fingers and trailed them down his slender, hairy chest, his stomach, down to his entrance. He moaned as he eased one finger inside himself, his cock already half-hard. 

"Nice right, Ronald," Marin said lowly. "Open up for me, my boy. I wish I could see you, all spread out and wet."

Ronald moaned, adding a second fingers, closing his eyes at the pleasing burn. "I wish it was your fingers inside me, Dr. Whitly."

"I wish it was me too," Martin replied, his voice rough. "I'd love to be the one stretching your tight hole open, preparing you for my cock."

Ronald added a third finger, his cock now fully hard and leaking precome on his belly. He pinched his nipple with his free hand and whined, gyrating his hips off the bed slightly. He heard Martin moan as well, heard the rustling of fabric as the doctor took his own arousal in hand. Ronald's three fingers brushed against his prostate, and he mewled.

:God, you make such pretty noises," Martin breathed, stroking himself. "Such a needy thing. Are you ready for more?"

"Yes," Ronald answered, his accent thicker.

"Put the vibrator inside your hole," Martin instructed. "Nice and deep for me, sweetheart."

Ronald whined as he pulled his fingers out and grabbed the vibrator. He coated it in lube and eased it inside himself, gasping as the velvet-smoothness rubbed his inner walls. He pushed deep as it could go, the tip just barely brushing his prostate. He gripped the sheets tightly in his hands, his breathing hitched and rough as he adjusted to the fullness.

"Are you ready?" Martin asked.

"Yes," Ronald gasped. "Please turn it on."

The vibrator roared to life, and Ronald arched his back, moaning loudly. The object massaged his walls and prostate so well, the pressure exquisite. He was so lost in pleasure that he almost didn't hear Martin talking.

"You sound so needy," he said, almost teasingly. "I bet you look so debauched already. I can picture it now, you laying out, legs spread, just begging for someone to fuck you for real, to fill that greedy, tight hole of yours." He pressed a different button on the remote, and the vibrator went to more lower setting, but still making Ronald see stars as he rocked his hips against it. 

"I only want you, Martin," he said. "Only your cock, your mouth, your hands on me, in me."

"Such a good boy," Martin praised, upping the speed again. "I wish I was there to touch you for real. There are so many things I've yet to do to that body of yours."

Ronald bit his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. "What do you want to do to me?"

"I want to fuck you from behind," Martin growled in answer. "I want to bend you over my desk and pull on your hair as I pound into you, until you scream my name so that your voice is hoarse for days."

Ronald keened as the vibrator was cranked up to its highest setting. His whole back was almost off the bed, the tendons in his neck pulsing, sweat sticking his hair to his face and matting his chest hair. His hips rocked urgently back against the vibrator, his cock a furious red.

"Are you close?" Martin asked, his breathing getting heavier. "I can tell that you're getting close. You're making those sweet, desperate noises that only I get to hear."

"I am close, Dr. Whitly," Ronald breathed. "I'm so bloody close!"

"Do you want to come?" Martin asked. "Should I let you come, Ronnie, give you release?"

"If you think I've earned it," Ronald replied, his voice thick with need.

That was the right answer. The vibrator hit his prostate again, and he screamed, his body convulsing from the force of his orgasm. White strands of come coated Ronald's belly, glistening in the dark hairs of his belly. He slumped against the bed, panting, his heart hammering in his chest. He heard Martin give a low, primal moan as he came, stroking himself furiously. The room was silent except for their heavy breathing.

"That was...something," Martin said after a minute. 

"Yeah, it was," Ronald agreed sleepily. "I should send you mail more often."

Martin hummed. "I'd like that. And I liked this. Did you?"

"More than anything," Ronald answered. He yawned, feeling tired and content.

"You should get some sleep," Martin told him. "And we should do this again soon."

"I'd like that," Ronald said. "Goodnight, Martin."

"Goodnight, Ronald," Martin replied, hanging up.


End file.
